Au Contraire
by fullonswayzed
Summary: A smorgasbord of one-shots following our favorite detective and his trusty sidekick... er, friend, the good Dr. Watson. First one-shot doesn't contain slash, but future ones WILL and that's a promise. The rating is unfitting for now, but it won't be soon.


**Disclaimer:** If I owned Sherlock Holmes that would mean I owned Watson too. And if I owned them both (or even one of them), do you really think I'd be wasting my time _writing stories about them_?

**A/N: **I think this is the first story in a series of (mostly) unrelated one-shots. Writing stories with discernible plots are for people who actually have attention spans. Oh and some of the later one-shots that I add under this title will probably contain slash. Because I like it. But I'll put a warning on the ones that do. This one is just supposed to be friendship and my attempt at humor

**Toxic:**

"Holmes."

"Holmes."

"Holmes!"

The unconscious Sherlock Holmes gave a snort and swatted at the annoyance but did not stir further.

"HOLMES!"

Holmes had not decided to dignify Watson's shouting with a response.

Watson let out an exasperated sigh, one that he had perfected and one that was saved solely for situations involving the infuriating Sherlock Holmes. He sighed again at the fact that Holmes seemed to be unconscious at his desk with a most ominous set of chemicals bubbling away next to him."Are you actually sleeping, or have you taken to ignoring me?"

Holmes did not respond.

"Or are you just so completely captivated by your own musings and fondness for yourself that you simply _cannot not hear me_?"

Holmes opened his eyes and met Watson's. He chose not to answer Watson, but instead stared at him. A staring contest of sorts commenced between the two men.

"Oh for Heaven's sake Holmes!" Watson burst out to mask the discomfort he felt under Holmes's gaze. "You've not spoken to me for days! You've shut yourself up in this hole you call a room, haven't taken any meals, and you probably haven't bathed in the meantime." By this time Holmes was still staring wide-eyed as Watson's ranting showed no sign of slowing down, "All of these actions are not what concern me, however, because this behavior is not at all peculiar for you. No, what has me concerned is the _lack_ action! No loud explosions at random, no gunfire at breakfast time, no mysterious and unidentifiable thuds, bangs, and booms, no killing my dog--" "Our dog," Holmes's interruption went unnoticed by Watson, "And, God save the Queen, no _incessant_ violin playing at three in the morning! And here I am _complaining_ about it when all I've ever wanted since I've taken residence here was some peace and quiet for a few hours! It seems now that I have gotten it, all I can do is worry myself into a panic that you've finally done it! That you've finally managed to get yourself killed."

"Do you have the time, Watson?" Was the world's most brilliant mind's reply.

"Do I-- do I have the _time_?" Watson's eyes bugged out with incredulity, "You're asking me for the _time_? At a time like this?"

"At a time like what, Watson? I do not know what time is like because I_ do not know the time_ and that is precisely why I have asked you!"

Again, Watson sighed, but it sounded more like a grunt of frustration, "8:42 p.m."

"It's almost too late!" Holmes shouted as he sprung from his chair and rummaged through the various chemicals at his desk.

"Too late for what?" Watson's tone still was still snappish, but the familiar twitch of curiosity began to itch at him, as was customary in the presence of Sherlock Holmes. Feelings of frustration and morbid curiosity went hand-in-hand when it came to Holmes.

"I believe I am on the brink of a revolutionary scientific breakthrough, old boy," Holmes explained in a rush, and his eyes never left the chemicals. Those dark eyes held a fanatical gleam as he found the bottles he was looking for.

Watson took a closer look, trying to keep the curiosity from showing on his face. "What exactly is in that?" he asked, indicating the bubbling concoction.

"It is a solution of ammonia and water, heated at a low temperature. I am in the process of finding a practical and less toxic fuel alternative for the internal combustion engine." Holmes recited as Watson nodded and pretended to know what in the name of Mrs. Hudson he was talking about.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Watson questioned as Holmes pulled the rubber stopper from the one of the bottles.

"How insulting!" Holmes seemed extremely offended at the notion. He pulled the rubber stopper from the other bottle with his teeth and a 'pop', and spat the stopper at Watson. Then he proceeded to dump them unceremoniously into the container.

"Holmes, don't! Those are bromine and iodine!" Watson shouted as he noticed just what Holmes was about to pour in the ammonia solution. But it was too late. An explosive bang erupted and Sherlock Holmes disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Another loud noise sounded as Holmes hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Watson looked down at Holmes's semi-unconscious form, "I thought you were supposed to be creating _less_ toxic substances... "

**A/N:** Let me know what you think in a nice, grammatically correct review if you would. Okay it doesn't have to be grammatically correct, but I wouldn't mind if it was...


End file.
